Tagged: day

all day, the rain falls

all day, the rain falls
in brooklyn like a fugue,
repeating the same
theme on its way
down – ledge, leaf,
rung, stoop,
ledge, leaf, rung,
stoop, ledge,
leaf, rung, stoop –
rubato-
ing and
accelerando-ing
together
with the ease of
a seasoned symphony
.
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at the end of the

at the end of the
day, we have no idea what we
are really about
.
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y

at day’s end, it is

day after day, love

on day 104

on day eighty-five,

on day eighty-five,
doubt looks too familiar,
perhaps closer to

day sixty, smiling like thirty,
naïve like eight, aching like one
.
20171114:1622
y

this morning, on day

this morning, on day
seventy-eight, the waning
gibbous moon stayed up

long enough to laugh at me,
or console – its face was so smooth
.
20171107:2215
y